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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26005729">sew</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/babelincoln/pseuds/babelincoln'>babelincoln</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Angst, M/M, it’s not extreme violence they just got roughed up, that’s not written out and there’s no details of the incident itself</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:13:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,487</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26005729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/babelincoln/pseuds/babelincoln</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>usually, it was him nagging taeyong. but this is just how they deal with things. doyoung shuts off and taeyong grasps for control.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>fanfiction dot net be like hurt/comfort</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“no, honestly, it’s fine.” he says into his phone. “i’ll eat here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">there’s a swollen silence in the car; he’s not sure if the others can hear his dad’s response for it. nobody’s really said anything at all. “i said i’m fine.” he says, a little too curtly. from the driver’s seat, he feels taeil cutting eyes at him. he draws his shoulders in slightly, making himself smaller, and looks out the window. “i’m just going to stay up studying with taeyong. his mom will drive us to the exam tomorrow. — yeah. — okay. — mhm. — yes, dad, i’ll text you after. it’ll be fine, i’m actually feeling pretty confident. — i’m not just saying that. — i mean... whatever. — yeah. — bye. — you too.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">he hangs up his phone and drops it into his lap. it’s dark enough outside that the car window may as well be a mirror, and he sees it when taeil opens his mouth to say something. it looks like it’s going to be a question, so he pulls his hood up and settles his head against the window, his eyes fluttering shut. taeil must take the hint, because the car inflates once more with silence. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“thanks for coming to get us.” taeyong says, some minutes after. doyoung keeps his eyes closed. taeil doesn’t respond straight away; as if he’s formulating the words first. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“it’s okay.” he says. this time, it doesn’t sound like a question is coming. neither of them had offered any explanation; and taeyong’s call had been hasty. panicked. doyoung’s eyes creak open. a finger traces over the scrape on his knee; his school slacks torn open. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">neither of them really want to talk about it.through the rearview mirror, doyoung can see taeyong in the seat behind him. a bruise is already blossoming underneath his eye. taeyong has the kind of face that anything looks pretty on. doyoung had painted bruises onto taeyong’s face before; makeup for a school play. he’d joked about how it made him look rugged and sexy. it was easy to romanticise. not when it’s a real bruise. doyoung looks away quickly. he’s filled with guilt and fear and anxiety. he doesn’t care that they hurt him, he cares that they hurt taeyong.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">taeil pulls up outside of taeyong’s apartment. for a minute, nobody moves, but as doyoung goes to unbuckle his seatbelt, taeil clears his throat uncomfortably.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“i-“ doyoung starts, though taeil cuts him off with a shake of his head. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“i can pretend to be a parent. vouch for you guys.” he says. “if you want to call in sick tomorrow. i’ll pretend i gave you both food poisoning.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“it’s the exam.” taeyong cuts in, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding into the middle seat, stationed between them. he runs a hand through his hair, slumping back against the fabric seats of taeil’s hand-me-down car. he worries his bottom lip for a second. doyoung looks at him through the mirror, sees him mentally weigh up his options. “if we don’t show up, that’s that. no grade.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“thanks anyway.” doyoung says shortly, unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling the car door open. taeyong hangs back even as doyoung slams the door shut. he knows he’s being rude. usually he’d try not to. he walks the length of the front garden outside taeyong’s apartment complex; turns and rests against the doorframe. taeil and taeyong discuss something in the car with serious expressions on their faces, and doyoung reaches into the school blazer he’s wearing over his hoodie and pulls out a half empty carton of cigarettes and a lighter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">by the time taeyong gets out the car, he’s smoked half of it. it’s pulled from his lips when taeyong reaches him, stubbed prematurely out beneath the boy’s shoe. “enough of that.” taeyong says quietly, unlocking the door and pushing in. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“taeil’s gonna pick us up in the morning.” taeyong says as they finish the silent hike up to his floor. as soon as they enter his family’s apartment, he shrugs off his blazer, making his way to the small laundry room. doyoung follows. “my mom is... you know. she’s gone again.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">doyoung just makes a noise. it’s not that he doesn’t know what to say; it’s that he knows to say nothing. taeyong doesn’t like to talk about it. “that’s nice of him.” he says, instead. taeyong hums.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“yeah. maybe you could thank him this time.” taeyong says, but there’s no real bite to it. doyoung just shrugs, looking back down at his fingernails. taeyong begins to pull off his shirt. blood had dropped down from his burst lip, dotted it in red that’s already starting to dry a little brownish. “give me your clothes.” he says as he tosses it, alongside his blazer, into the washing machine. he stands up to strip from his slacks, and doyoung empties his pockets before stripping down to his underwear too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">usually, it was him nagging taeyong. but this is just how they deal with things. doyoung shuts off and taeyong grasps for control. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">taeyong sighs as he notices the hole in doyoung’s pants. he sets them to one side, and doyoung feels a little stupid hanging around in his underwear, so he takes his phone from his pile of things, tucks it into the waistband of his underwear, and goes to taeyong’s room to wait. he detours by the kitchen first, though, and snatches a bag of frozen french fries (they didn’t have peas) on his way.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">he stands in front of the full length mirror on taeyong’s floor, and he’s only trying to look at the scrape on his knee, but he notices bruises developing all up his side. he hadn’t expected them to be there. they don’t hurt until he touches them. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">taeyong enters the bedroom with doyoung’s pants over his arm. doyoung throws the bag of french fries to him. he isn’t great at aiming at the best of times, and he misses his shot. they land somewhere behind taeyong. it would have probably been funny if doyoung was in a better mood. “your face is gonna swell up.” he says as taeyong bends down to pick it up. doyoung would have probably checked him out if he was in a better mood. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">taeyong holds the back to his cheek silently, tossing the trousers onto the floor as he goes to rifle through his drawers, one handedly searching for something. doyoung sits on the bed and takes his phone from his briefs. taeil has texted him, ‘i’m always here.’ it promises. doyoung will reply a message of gratitude when, no doubt, he rereads it later and feels gratitude. right now, he simply reads it. jaehyun has also sent him a message, telling him to kick ass tomorrow with a fist emoji and a thousand thumbs up. awful timing, lovely sentiment. doyoung sends him a thank you and a heart in return. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“hold this up for me.” taeyong says, and doyoung looks up from his phone to see the list of ingredients for french fries. he takes the bag and taeyong turns around only to sit down between his legs. doyoung leans his head on taeyong’s shoulder- the side of his face that isn’t hurt. taeyong must have been looking for a sewing kit; because he’s already turned doyoung’s pants inside out, attempting to sew closed the tear. gingerly, doyoung holds the fries up to taeyong’s face. taeyong leans his head into it, as if to assure doyoung it doesn’t hurt. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">and they sit there. taeyong sews, doyoung holds the frozen fries until the cold causes his hand to ache, and then he holds them until it goes completely numb. and neither of them say a word to each other until taeyong breaks the thread with his teeth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">he turns the pants back the right way around; and doyoung feels him physically deflate at the very obvious seem he’s stitched into the knee of the slacks. doyoung doesn’t know what taeyong expected, but he’s not going to ask. “shit.” taeyong says. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">and it’s with that he crumbles, tossing the pants into the floor and dissolving into a mess of tears. “i don’t know how to do this!” he exclaims, and he’s talking about sewing, but also about everything else in the world. doyoung gently moves to sit beside him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. he rubs his hand up and down taeyong’s back. he whispers to him; little comforts for only taeyong to hear, fingers gently scratching the top of his nape as he pulls him so close that they essentially become one. and he feels himself choke up, but he doesn’t let himself cry; because he’d already let taeyong take control and try to be strong and now it was his turn.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“you did it.” doyoung says, in a hushed tone. “you mended them.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“not properly.” taeyong says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“it’s fine,” doyoung says. “it’ll do for now.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>“how does one react to something bad happening to the other” is like one way to think about ship angst but this is “how do they react to something bad happening to the both of them at once” </p><p>aka sometimes i just like to write little scenes between two characters and once in a blue moon i actually like them enough to upload </p><p>if you’d like to follow me on the twitter i have for fanfiction related things it’s <a>@jaepluhms</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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